Arsonist's Lullaby
by bunniesRawesome
Summary: There's a voice inside Hiro's head, but he doesn't think it belongs to him. Warnings: Hidashi, Implied Incest, Depression, some comments about religion (that might be offensive if you're religious) Inspired by the Hozier song


Even the lowest brightness setting on Hiro's computer still burned him. Puffy eyes and wet cheeks showed the true feelings dwelling, and none of the usual comforts would sooth the pain. Since Tadashi's death he'd started an unbreakable cycle. Each day he would wake up with a blank mind. Then he'd lay in bed awhile, debate the productive possibilities, before undoubtedly falling asleep again.

In a brief moment of darkness and bliss, he'd forget Tadashi even existed. But when his eyes would open for the second time, he'd see the tinted doors leading to his brother's half of the room and _bam_, the sudden sensation of salty water. He didn't make a sound; crying upon waking _every morning_ eventually leads to silent tears. Hiro would get up, get dressed, brush his teeth, all the while leaking faucets from his eyes. Mouth neutral, a flat line, eventually the feelings would go away and he could be empty again.

But today the waking led to a different result. It was dawn, he was awake, and yes he was crying, but for different reasons. A nightmare, one Tadashi couldn't fix, simply because he wasn't there, a warm body under blankets that Hiro could invade upon will.

A brief flash of hands covered in gasoline; it only takes another moment for Hiro to recognize them as his own. Hiro wasn't a dream analyst, but he knew what he felt when looking down at his boney digits in a conscious state.

He blamed himself entirely for Tadashi's death.

Somewhere there was a parallel universe where he'd held on just a few moments longer, where they were both bruised and battered, but _alive_. And that in itself was enough to make Hiro want to slam his head against a wall until his brain wasn't of any use.

He refocuses to the dull light coming from the monitor, his blurry vision barely able to detect the old pixelated image of Tadashi he'd accidentally clicked on. The computer was no longer on his side; it could no longer fix what had been broken. His devil was manifesting itself again.

Hiro had a devil and an angel on his shoulder like everyone else. Except his angel suffered from chronic depression and his devil had the help of three demonic minions constantly mucking things up. None of it seemed very fair.

Hiro jumps out of his chair, nearly tripping as he makes his way down the staircase, still choking back sobs. Entering the bathroom and slamming the door behind him, he turns on the sink and desperately tries to wash the dream-petrol off his hands. Aunt cass used to make him sing happy birthday to confirm that he washed his hands for the full forty seconds, and even though it was a childish notion, it calmed him down. A slight hum from quivering lips and the tears started to become crusty. One of his many coping mechanisms was now prevalent, ignoring the problem and dealing with it later.

Suddenly sympathy replaces itself with anger. Tadashi was the stupid one. Tadashi was the one who left _him_ behind, the one who made him fall in love, the one who plunged into an inferno willingly, the one who bought himself a one-way ticket to hell!-

Hiro looks down, surprised at the lack of motions in his hands under the now cold water. He starts thinking again. Tadashi was...definitely in heaven, if that was what happened after all this, after the burdening human life-span was finally up. Egg timers ringing in unison upon a judgement day. Sinful beings thrown into an oven and baked as burnt cookies for a new generation, and the kindred spirits thrown into a refrigerator for another day? Now that he thought about it, neither option sounded too appealing. Regardless, when he died, he wanted to be wherever Tadashi was. Shoveling coal by his side didn't sound all that bad anyways.

"_Hiro_?", a voice asks, internally, but not his own. It was his devil. Hiro starts viciously scrubbing his hands again, pretending to be too busy for his thoughts.

"_I know you can hear me, Hiro.",_ the one person he couldn't outsmart was himself.

"I'm fine.", Hiro announces out loud, but his voice cracks. He hadn't spoken since he'd stopped crying.

"_You don't have to be_.", this voice is different, subdued, gentle. Hiro doesn't want to admit it, but he knows it's Tadashi. He's been able to mentally reconstruct his voice for awhile now, but he's afraid to ever make him speak.

"I'm fine.", Hiro repeats, though he wants nothing more than to give in to the temptation and allow his brother's voice to pull his soul right out of him with a kiss. He hardly notices the blood fill up the sink as he continues to nervously wash his hands, rubbing layers of skin off his knuckles and fingertips from mere pressure.

There's a slight increase in temperature over his left shoulder, and what feels like a faint exhalation brushing by his neck.

"_It's alright to cry."_

And Hiro does -instantly, almost as if on cue. The dried up salt lakes refilling and dripping into the crimson water. He's noisy this time, sniffing and sobbing and groaning to drown out his thoughts. But the warmth doesn't leave, and he cries harder when he feels modest fingertips graze his spine before firmly grasping both his shoulders.

This isn't Tadashi, but why is it so hard to-

The tears slow, and Hiro isn't sure if it's because the mysterious hands wiped them out of his eyes, or if his mental stability improved on his own accord. But the question is answered when Hiro feels an entire body press against his back, the rigid edges of a blazer's collar lightly touching his shoulder blades. He closes his eyes and arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into a warm embrace.

It's now that Hiro realizes the faucet's been turned off, but he's still not sure if it's his or someone else's doing. He feels the stinging from the torn flesh on his hands, and cooled blood dripping down the sides of his fingertips.

"_I'm here now, so it's ok.",_ the voice whispers, so close to Hiro's ear that he's afraid he might drown. Eyes screwed shut in desperation, he occasionally lets out a sniff here and there to prove he can still breathe.

Hiro brings his hands to the pressure that's over his stomach, feeling around until he finds the cold palms seeking connection. He gives in without hesitation, letting these hands intertwine with his own, and shaking them up and down once in a reassuring gesture. They feel so tangible...so real...Hiro sinks into this Tadashi, sensing the distinct facial shape as a nose presses into his neck, and strands of hair drift by his cheek. He pays attention to the apparition's breathing patterns in comparison to his own. While his were sporadic and jerky, the other's were deep and clean. Was it really possible...for his brain to be able to conjure up all these little details? Or was this...some way, some how...really Tadashi?

Hiro takes a deep breath before finally opening his eyes and looking over his shoulder. The hair on his cheek is his own, and the other sensations have dissipated. He's holding his own hand, pressing tightly into his lower torso to the point where it's actually starting to hurt. The sun's peaking through the curtains and covering the bathroom in a dim orange glow. Hiro's tense body suddenly becomes loose, and he takes in another shaky breath before exiting the bathroom. He practically clings to the railing as he walks back up to his room, but stops as he sees a large silhouetted figure waiting at the top of the stairwell.

"...Baymax?", Hiro questions, hearing the quiet whirring motor that worked the care-robot's blinking mechanism.

"What are you doing out here? Go back to your charging station.", Hiro commands, but no response is given from the suspiciously still robot. He quickens his pace only to find the bot aimlessly staring down the hallway, ignoring external output. Concerned, Hiro approaches Baymax slowly with the intention to fix, but nearly jumps back when the bot's head swivels to make direct eye contact.

"Tadashi is - here."


End file.
